Love, Hate and Everything in Between
by Rabblocked
Summary: Set in the middle of Scandal in Belgravia after Irene's falsed death. Irene Adler's death had hit Sherlock Holmes hard. He was, by all definitions; utterly heartbroken. So when he hears her personalised text tone, he has absolutely no idea how to react, resulting in the biggest show down of his life.


Sherlock sighed as he placed his bow and violin down in their case. He had been playing the same melody for weeks. He knew John was sick of it, but he wasn't. He was in the darkest place he had ever been in his life. And that was impressive. She was impressive. She was everything. To him at least. But he would never admit that. Least of all to John. The death of Irene Adler had hit Sherlock Holmes more greatly than anything in his life. Which was ironic, since they were merely acquaintances, but she had meant the world to him for those few weeks. He hadn't' slept, he barely ate. John was getting worried. As he should be. He only played the violin and watched crap telly. Sherlock Holmes was...heartbroken.

Irene had been sat in Sherlock's room for the past hour, listening to Sherlock play. It was a beautiful tune, haunting and melodic. It tugged at her heart, something that had never happened before. A small thought entered her mind, almost guilt. She had been keeping an eye out for Sherlock since her fake death and he had been acting even stranger than usual. She decided that enough was enough. "I like that tune. Does it have a name? IA"

Sherlock heard his phone moan. He started. His eyes widening. He slowly pulled out his phone and read her text. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to get emotional.

"Perhaps. SH"

Irene smiled slightly at the response. "Would you like to tell me it? IA"

"Would you like to tell me how you are texting me if you are supposed to be dead? SH"

She rolled her eyes slightly as she got off his bed and walked into the living room where she knew he would be. "Make a deduction." She said simply.

Sherlock almost dropped his phone as he saw her walk into the living room. "Wh-What are you doing here, Miss Adler?" He asked, his voice shaky.

"Again, make a deduction." She smirked slightly. "I got bored and you have something of mine that I need."

Sherlock's nostrils' flared, as he saw her step out. His heart ached and warmed at the same time.

"So, you're alive?" He asked.

She smirked slightly. "No Shit, Sherlock."

He glared at her, "And tell me, how did you manage that?"

"By not dying." She couldn't help but be amused at Sherlock's reaction. "It wasn't me that you identified." She clarified even though it was obvious. "I needed to disappear for a while.

"Well that was very...cruel...of you." He spat, lowly, not looking at her, wanting to ignore what he had said completely.

"How... sentimental of you." She said with a smirk, leaning in the doorway.

He flexed his jaw and stood up crossing towards her. "I can assure you it is anything but sentiment." He spat, looking down at her lowly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You seem awfully defensive about it." She smirked.

"Please, Miss Adler, don't flatter yourself." He said looking away.

"So what was the song called? You never told me." She pressed.

"It's none of your business." He spat, turning to look out the window. "What are you even doing here? And why were you in my room?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "I'm here out of boredom and the need to get my phone back. And I was in your room because I wanted to make an entrance."

"Well you certainly did that." He muttered, looking down. "What do you want?"

"My phone. And dinner." She smiled, watching him.

"Well the phone is nonnegotiable, as for dinner, what do you mean?" He asked, unsure of her intention.

Irene sighed. "What do you think I mean by dinner?"

Sherlock thought a moment, "Food over candlelight?"

She smirked. "That's one variation I suppose. Is that what you'd like?"

"And what's the other?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"It's rather more... indelicate." She winked.

He furrowed his brow, "Indelicate? What exactly do you mean by that?" He asked, slightly confused, though catching on.

She leaned forward slightly. "It's to do with sex." She stage whispered.

"And what makes you think I have any interest in that?" He hissed, taking a few steps towards her.

She took a step towards him so that the distance between them was almost closed. "Call it a hunch." She purred.

He glared down at her. "Miss Adler, I am fairly certain you know my stance on that subject." He spat lowly, whispering the words darkly in her ear.

She leaned up to whisper in his ear, her lips brushing against it. "Hmm, I'm not sure I do, care to remind me?" She breathed.

He stiffened at her proximity, a difference between her choosing to be close to him and him choosing to be close to her. The former being far more dangerous and arousing. "Must I really remind you?" He spat, lowly.

"Mmm, I think so." She whispered. With a smirk, she pulled his earlobe between her teeth and gently bit down on it.

He fought back a moan. Closing his eyes briefly. He stepped away from her, crossing to the window.

"Miss Adler!" He hissed, his fury and excitement growing.

She smirked. "Yes, Mr Holmes?" She asked, moving to sit down on the couch, crossing her legs.

"Please try not to misbehave around me. You know I don't welcome it, nor do I find it amusing!" He spat, gazing out at the street below.

"I think my death made you even more boring." She sighed, leaning back on the couch.

"Your death has nothing to do with it!" He snapped, all too harshly, the care in his voice just a little too evident.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "If you say so." She muttered.

He sighed, closing his eyes at his slip up, hoping she hadn't noticed.

"Why are you here? Why now?" He asked, after a moment.

Irene sighed, this really wasn't a conversation she felt like having right now. Instead, she slowly slipped her coat off her shoulders before stalking over to him. She stopped, just behind him and ran her hand up his left arm, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Does it really matter why I'm here? Just accept that I am here." She breathed.

He swallowed at her proximity, her hand like fire on his arm. He turned around to face her. He glanced down at her dress. She was wearing a tight black knee length dress with a slit up the right thigh. A high slit. He swallowed again. "Wh-what are you doing?" He stuttered.

"Make a deduction." She whispered, pressing her body against his.

His nostrils flared, "Miss Adler..." He warned, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her away.

She pouted at him. "Oh, you're no fun. Is John in? I'm sure I could get a better reaction out of him." She smirked.

He glared at her, "No, he isn't. Just you and me. As much as I loathe it." He spat, turning back to the window.

"How dull." She sighed. "Did you miss me?" She asked suddenly, walking over to him again.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder briefly, "What do you think?" He asked, annoyed.

"I think you did." She tilted her head to the side with a smirk. "Am I wrong?"

He looked back out the window, saying nothing. Neither confirming or denying. He waited for her to make the next move. He secretly loved this game they played. It was the only thing that truly got him off. Well at least in the theoretically sense, at least. The only thing that had ever truly...aroused him.

"I'm going to take that as a no." She grinned. "And yet, you don't seem too happy that I'm back. Maybe I should just leave." She sighed, taking a step away from him.

He turned around, "Do I ever seem happy to see you, Miss Adler?" He asked, taking a step towards her.

"Perhaps 'happy' wasn't the best word. Pleased?" She asked, gazing up at him.

He took another step towards her, "'Pleased implies pleasure does it not?" He asked daringly, eyeing her exposed thigh unconsciously.

She caught his line of sight and smirked slightly, she moved her leg a little, causing more of the material to slip off it. "Is there no pleasure here, Mr Holmes?" She purred.

He swallowed as he stalked towards her, their distance getting closer, "Like I would ever let you know if there was." He said darkly, moving his eyes from her thigh to her full pupils.

"Hmm, if there wasn't, you'd have outright said no." She leaned up so their lips were whispers apart. "What can we deduce about that?" She asked softly.

He smirked, "Unless I was lulling you into a false sense of security." He murmured, keeping his head still so that their lips were just as close but no closer, though internally he was on the verge of panic. She was far, far too close.

"Ooh, very good point, Mr Holmes, I was right. Brainy is the new sexy." She purred.

"Aroused?" He asked with a small smile, unable to help himself. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Always." She murmured, quirking her own eyebrow, wondering what his response would be to that.

He took a risk and placed a hand on her hip before leaning around to whisper huskily in her ear, "By me, Miss Adler?"

"Perhaps." She answered vaguely with a smirk.

He whipped his hand away, and stepped back, offended after having been slightly forward-which for him was more than rare.

"Typical." He muttered under his breath, crossing to sit down in one of the two chairs. He glanced at the fire.

"Problem?" She smirked, moving to sit in the chair opposite him, gazing at him with an innocent expression.

He glared at her, he was more hurt by her vague dismissal of him that he had first realised. "No. I'm just saying it's typical. I'm sure anything with two legs, walks upright and has genitalia turns you on." He spit, looking back at the fire, his thumb and his lips and his index by his temple.

"I like to keep it within my own species." She replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you think I just walk around turned on all the time?"

He glanced at her, "Wouldn't surprise me...give your line of 'work'." He condescended.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't get turned on by everything." She retorted, her tone clipped.

"Really? I'm shocked." He said seriously, looking back at the fire.

"Just because you don't get turned on by anything don't assume that others who are more accustomed get turned on by everything." She said coldly.

He turned his head towards her, "Forgive me for being elevated enough to have self-control and resist selling myself for sex." He hissed, his anger rising as he sat up in the chair.

She also sat up, her anger flaring. "Are you implying something, Mr Holmes?" She said acidly.

"Think. It's the new sexy!" He spat, his sarcasm all too clear.

"Oh, Mr Holmes. You better hope that my deductions are incorrect. I don't take too kindly to those kind of implications." She said, her voice cold but sweet.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, "And what implications are those? Hmm? What have you so cleverly deduced? That I think you are a cheap whore? Well, brava Miss Adler, you hit the nail on the head." He hissed, standing up, about to walk away.

Irene stood up quickly, her anger reaching it's peak. "How dare you!" She yelled, pulling her hand back before quickly striking him across the face with all the force she could muster.


End file.
